


Convergence

by a_fangirl_studies



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types, Big Hero 6 (2014), Detroit: Become Human (Video Game), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, F/F, F/M, Multi, Multiverse, Spoilers, not even really started yet, so many chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-24
Updated: 2018-10-24
Packaged: 2019-08-06 22:53:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,418
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16396628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_fangirl_studies/pseuds/a_fangirl_studies
Summary: Currently just a teaser for a concept I've had in the works on Tumblr for a long time. Eventually it's going to expand to involve a whole bunch of universes but for now, let's start off with some major character death and some Darkiplier (because just because Mark hasn't played DBH doesn't mean I can't put Connor and Dark in the same chapter right?).





	Convergence

**Author's Note:**

  * For [My Makoto](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=My+Makoto).



It only took five heartbeats for Ana to make her decision. Connor’s body had hit the ground on the first, and she’d watched the flickering light of his LED go out in time with the second. She felt her legs give way under her as the third beat pounded frantically against her ribcage, and the fourth marked her final settling on the ground. By five, she knew what she had to do. Ego was talking, but she didn’t care. Mako was screaming, but she didn’t care. Every fibre of her body was suppressing the common sense urging her not to do this. To stand up, to walk away, to do as she was told.

But she wouldn’t let this happen again.

In between that fourth and fifth heartbeat, she saw Loki’s face as he’d told her to run, milliseconds before that last convulsion as Thanos crushed the life from him. She heard Lucilla whisper ‘no’ and that she couldn’t – mustn’t – stay, that she had to go back to her life as a character. She felt the heat of the flames as she’d watched Jacob fall from the stage rack and heard the horrible crack of his spine above the roaring of the flames. She tasted the blood in her mouth as her attempts at CPR left Alexios coughing blood into her kiss as he succumbed to the dozens of arrows piercing his body.

Now, as she smelled the distinctive tang of Thirium as Connor’s blood drained down the steps towards them, and the stench of the rotting corpses of Ego’s earlier victims, she felt the same pain, the same anguish that she’d felt so many times before.

This time, though, she would stop it in its tracks.

As Ana’s heart beat for the fifth time, a single word escaped her lips. One that she whispered more out of a sense of its sanctity, rather than concern for it being heard. It was not like that anyone would understand; and even if they could, what could they do to stop her?

“Dark…”

The world shifted around her instantly. She was standing in a bedroom, the tinny sound of an alarm clock vibrating through the room. A glance over at the source of the noise saw it stuck at 8:30 am, the old-fashioned flip clock illuminated only by the glow of an ivy wrapped lamp on a marble stand.

The walls around her looked as if they dripped with blood, though both her gut and her memory told her it was simply an unfortunate choice of interior decorating. As the warm morning light streamed through the windows, Ana turned and tracked the familiar path out of the room, leaving the alarm still ringing behind her. Its metallic sound was soon replaced by a rhythmic beat and unintelligible words, emanating from somewhere downstairs. Not curious enough to seek out their source immediately, she crossed to the table by the staircase and let her hand brush against the dead flowers propped decrepit in a vase directly beneath an elegant chandelier. She picked one up, watching the long white petals wither at her touch and drift to the ground. Letting the stem fall, she continued to examine the flowers, well aware that she was being watched.

“Of all the flowers in that urn you choose the rainflower,” the smooth yet almost digital voice resonated softly around her, “I’d be flattered… if I thought it was for me,”

Ana turned, letting the petals be crushed beneath her heel, “You know what I’m here for, Dark,” she called out.

“I know I do…” the voice started to trail as the room around Ana distorted like a table in a Hitchcock diner, “But do you?”

With an ethereal snap, the room around Ana changed. Gleams of white floated in the air around her as the colours around her blended between charred grey and a stagnant green. The light floating through the windows no longer held the promise of a crisp dawn but was instead mutated, alternating between redshift and blueshift as it fell unnaturally on the dead flowers under Ana’s feet.

“I don’t just intend to survive this,” Ana moved lazily forward, taking in the shift in her surroundings, “This will make both of us stronger. We can thrive, Dark, think of it,” Now, she was at the top of the spiral staircase. Tall, narrow windows with diamond patterning, framed with long curtains, curled around the outside of the staircase and down to the ground floor. Trailing a finger across the bannister, she descended.

“We can be something new,” she mused, “Something nobody’s ever seen before, something that Ego could never prepare against. We don’t have to conform to those old archetypes anymore. Hero, villain, antihero, Medjay… don’t they just seem so constricting?” continuing her path downwards, Ana thought that the carpet under her feet may once have been cream, or even white. With the manor in its current state, however, caught between Ana’s world and one she still could not fully comprehend, her path instead appeared a dull green-grey. As her path tracked down, it looked instead like a river clogged with spores of mould, solidified, but still creeping ever onwards to consume her. To consume Ana.

It didn’t concern her.

After this, she would not be Ana.

As she stepped off the carpeted staircase, she let herself be distracted by the suit of armour on her right. Though she was well aware of the figure in the next room, patiently waiting for her undivided attention, she allowed herself to be enthralled by the simple object. She lazily counted the holes in its visor, tracing a finger down the seam in its chest. “With our roots in this place, and in all the powers I’ve gathered… we could be unstoppable…” she trailed off, tracking the path of a mote in the sunlight as it drifted to the ground. She could feel the steady ache of grief beginning to build a thousand miles and two realities away in her physical body. It grew slowly, as time passed strangely here. Her body was only now starting to process what it had seen. She gritted her teeth. She wouldn’t be weak, not this time.

Deciding she’d given the statue enough attention, she turned and moved into the next room to meet her host.

He was standing in front of a fireplace, the grand effect of which was lessened somewhat by both the flat-screen TV on the mantlepiece and the fact that Ana knew he was only there because he was a dramatic bitch. Also, he was standing on the marble ledge around the base of the fire. Probably to make himself look taller.

All the same, Dark cut an imposing figure. In his black suit and tie, with the disconcerting red and blueshift around his features, there was something disturbing about him. For all his comedic value and neo-goth aesthetic, something about him stirred an instinct in Ana. An instinct to run. Regardless of the nature of their relationship, Dark was an objective abomination against nature, and undoubtedly one of the most powerful individuals Ana had ever come across. With his power based in a world that made no logical sense, as well as being a singularly intelligent and pragmatic character, the potential for a powerful and deadly alliance had always been clear – if morally grey. Ana had never been in a position desperate enough to accept his help.

Today, she was asking for it.

However, Ana didn’t go to meet him immediately. She continued to take her time, walking over to examine the jukebox in the corner. Having identified the source of the music, she raised an eyebrow at the selection.

“You surprise me, Dark,” she mused, turning to face him at last, but still keeping her distance, “Didn’t think Katy Perry was your style,”

Dark snarled, glitching in and out of red-blue shift “It’s nightcore,” he hissed with all the ferocity of an angsty teen.

“Of course it is,” Ana glanced again around the dimly lit room, one eyebrow raised, “Very edgy,”

“Thank you,”

“It’s not a compliment,” she crossed the room so that she was standing directly behind him, “Do you know what I’m here for?”

He nodded, hands still behind his back. Was it just her, or did he seem almost nervous?

“As I said, I know why you’re here,” he restated, “But I don’t think you do. That is to say, I don’t think you fully understand what you’re proposing,”

“Oh ye of so little faith,” Ana drawled, mirroring his stance, “Why do you doubt me? Better yet, why are you even questioning me? I’m giving you what you’ve wanted since we met. Me and you, Dark,” she took a step forward, still with her hands laced behind her back “Isn’t that what you always wanted?”

For a few moments, Ana thought she saw the shifting colours and cruel expression snap out of existence. Instead, she was confronted by Damien, looking vulnerable, concerned, and maybe even compassionate. He gave her a look that seemed to contain the same depths of sorrow that Ana herself felt, and moved as if to reach out to her, speaking with uncharacteristic softness, “You know that’s not what I-” he stopped and, with a jerky tilt of the head, regained his composure as Dark. He straightened his tie, fixing Ana with a steely look, before returning to his original posture.

“You’re overestimating yourself,” he said dismissively, meeting her gaze critically, “The exertion of hosting the power I contain would destroy you,”

“I just lost the one person I’ve truly loved in a long time, does it look like I care if I get destroyed?” Ana snapped. She took a breath, taking a second to compose herself before continuing, “I’m offering you almost unlimited power in the body of a Medjay of Jericho, and you choose now to develop a conscience?” she scoffed, “No wonder nobody takes you seriously,”

Dark made no response to this insult, probably because he knew it was more an attempt to save face than deliver any real damage. He responded cooly, not bothering to even look slightly aggravated, “These insults would hold a lot more sway if you weren’t here begging for my help,”

“You got me there,”

“He died ten seconds ago, Ana. Your heart hasn’t even had time to break,” Dark pushed on with uncharacteristic concern, “You’re doing this before you have a chance to feel what happened the last time. And the time before that. And the time before that. And the time before that. But you’re not thinking about the consequences,”

“Is there a point to this anacolutha?”

“I just want to make sure you understand what you’re doing. Are you even grieving yet? Do you even understand that he’s dead?” Ana glared across at him, and he nodded patiently, “Alright, so you do understand. All the same…”

This time, there was no doubt that it was Damien speaking to her. He crossed the room to her, not quite touching, but close enough to. There was understanding in his eyes, and loss too. Ana remembered the lore and felt a great surge of sympathy for the man whose body Dark was possessing. When he spoke, he spoke without malice or rage. Just simple patience, and a genuine desire to protect, “I wouldn’t wish this on anyone,”

Ana broke, crumpling to the ground. Dimensions away her body screamed and she screamed with it, curling into a ball and letting herself collapse onto the wooden floor. She rocked back and forth, a babble of incoherent despair flowing from her. Damien made no attempt to reach out to her or even to speak. Instead, he crouched beside her, giving comfort by his presence, and waited while Ana’s soul was torn apart.

This was a pain she hadn’t felt since Alexios. Even worse it was her fault. She’d hesitated when Ego made her an offer and allowed herself to be drawn into his web of fiction, allowed Connor to be taken in the confusion. Ego may have stopped his heart, but Ana had given it to him on a plate. He was dead. He was fucking dead. This wasn’t what was meant to happen, that was the whole point, Connor wasn’t supposed to die. They were supposed to be happy.

They were supposed to be happy.

Ana wasn’t sure how much time passed before she was steady enough to fall silent again. She stayed curled on the floor, body racking with silent sobs as tears streamed down her face. A minute after she’d quietened down, Damien spoke.

“I loved this house,” he was looking around, contemplating the building they found themselves in, “Despite all the evil entities, and the murders,” he paused as thunder racked the building and the lights flickered off for a second, “I grew up here. I spent time with my best friends here. I guess it only makes sense that I died here,” he looked down at Ana, a ghostly smile across his face, “It’s not fair, is it?”

She shook her head, sniffling pathetically. 

“So, what are we going to do about it?”

Ana straightened, pushing herself to her knees. She levelled with Damien, wiping the tears from her eyes and fixing them with steely resolve.

“I’m going to destroy Ego,” she said, her voice flat and emotionless, “I’m going to rip him apart, tear him to shreds. Then I’m going to put him back together and do it all again. Again, and again, and again, and again. And when he begs for mercy, I’ll start burning him while I do it. First with fire, then with acid. He’s going to suffer how we suffered, he’s going to feel the pain we feel,”

As the smile flickered across Damien’s face, he was once again Dark. They rose to their feet in unison, equals for the first time. He angled his head, the smile widening as the red and blue light flickered around him once more, “There’s my little monster,”

“I’m not your anything,”

“No… You're not. We’re going to be so much more,” Ana caught a glimpse of the true mania behind that façade, at the game he was playing by using Damian’s face and voice to get her sympathy, at the motives, at the evil, at the consequences of what she was about to do.

But she didn’t care.

“Let’s make Ego pay,” he held out his arm, and Ana took it without hesitation.

“I’ve been waiting,”

**Author's Note:**

> Just want to reiterate that this is a test! I only want to see how this looks on AO3 as opposed to buried in a word document on a hard drive lol.
> 
> It's part of a huge concept that I have laid out in my head which is why it doesn't make sense narratively - just let me know what you guys think of the writing, characters etc.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


End file.
